Reality Check!
by DarkLikeitornot
Summary: Her rank may ascend, but Burgundy's maturity is stagnant. Challenging this, her hated teacher has a surprise for her in store...
1. Troublemaker

tw: English and French swears. Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon. Trying for another Connoisseur story!

* * *

Dashing down the deserted corridor, I attempted to soothe my flyaway curls. An extraordinarily stupid idea, it transpired, as they bounced back up, not having a care in the world about my reputation. I swore loudly, racing to the fifth door on the right, my legs acknowledging that I was late, and deciding to give in instead of arceus forbid, to do anything actually useful. The cramp in my stomach was clearly not rooting for me either today.

I wrapped my hand around the brass knob, my other hand clutching my stomach, and pushed it open.

It appeared that I had interrupted our teacher in mid-sentence, which I personally didn't mind at all. He wheeled around on the heels of his feet, and his thin (possibly plucked?) eyebrows arched in recognition. "Burgundy Bouchet," the lofty voice came, "As much I appreciate your presence, could you not endeavor in a more punctual approach?" The class sniggered, and I rolled my eyes in response. Seriously, "punctual approach"? Who does he think he even is? I marched up the stairs and took the nearest available seat, which was unfortunately beside a gang of "refined ladies" who stuck their noses up at me. I forgot to mention a minor detail, that no one in the Connoisseur Association has time for the "Princess of the Tasting World", i.e moi. I kicked my satchel under the table and took out my textbooks. Slyly peering over to my neighbour's open textbook, I flipped to the right page and began to read, in a vain attempt to cut my attention off a particular voice. Unfortunately, when you are dealing with the devil incarnate, such matters are impossible. I had finally grasped the belle rank of A-Class, and now to further my position to the parfait S-Class, the gods have turned against me and damned me to survive the hell that is being taught by pure evil in a ridiculous chartreuse bowtie! There I was, the image of purity with a dash of magnificent beauty (okay, let's not jest, a dash is far too meagre to be describing moi) frolicking in a field blooming with delicate daises, the cherry blossom petals stroking my flawless face as they descend from the trees. Alas it is not meant to be, my world is shaken upside down, as a large _tr__è__s laid _monster curls the corners of his lips into a gruesome sneer as he destroys my paradise. He strikes me, and I fall to the ground. Despite being clearly impoverished in this scene, I am still clearly beautiful. My face is also, surprisingly unscathed. One may argue that that is slightly fanciful, but when you are dealing with beauty, the pragmatic world is blown away entirely. Anyways, here he is, claws at the ready-

"Psst!" A hiss interrupts my thoughts, and I blink, disorientated. I turn to the source, and see the only friendly face in this entire room. Styling gel wafted into my nostrils as we locked eyes with another. Not even Undella's clearest water could compare to the sparkling azure irises that I gazed into. His name was Kyle, and he was one of the few foreign students in the Association. He initially arrived over here to Unova on an exchange program of some sort, got interested in the

]Connoisseur profession, and now does it alongside contests. He placed a scrunched up note in the palm of my hand, and I immediately whipped around, in case the devil's supernatural eyesight managed to catch us on his radar. Hitching my textbook to stand on my desk, I unwrapped the piece of paper. There, in Kyle's joined handwriting were the words "Hey baby- check out the girl directly in front of you. Call the fire brigade quick!" I peered over my textbook slyly, and then snorted into it when I saw what he meant. Sacre bleu, is she trying to out do a Moltres ? "Miss. Bouchet?" _Shit. _I straightened my back, and reluctantly glanced at our teacher. A millisecond was enough, so I focused my sight on the poster behind him.

"Could you please read out the next paragraph?"

I coughed lightly, knowing I was doomed. I picked a paragraph that I believed we were on, and began to read, "When running a Connoisseur shop, remember to be inviting to the customer, and not intimidating-"

"We're on the paragraph after that." The class tittered and I flushed. I bet that absolute garbage can of a teacher is getting a real kick out of this.

I sighed under my breath, and read aloud, "_Loin des yeux, loin du cœur_… the parting words to your subject must have an everlasting impact…"

"I hate him!" I exclaimed for the fifteenth time that day. "How dare he just humiliate me like that?" Kyle and I were sitting together at the café in the Association, which serve très excellence lattes. Kyle shook his head. "No idea, do you think he spotted our communication methods?"

"Yes, yes I did." I almost screamed when the gatekeeper to hell sat down next to us both. What on earth was he doing? "However, no need to shrink in such an apprehensive taste, you will discover that it is your companion that I am looking for." I coughed on my latte. If it's about the time we egged his _affreux _bicycle, all I am going to say that that was a fortnight ago by now. Also, Kyle supplied me with the eggs.

"Ms. Bouchet? Could you please come to my office?" I internally groaned, and then accidentally externally groaned. Realising this, I coughed quickly, and I powdered my voice. "Yes, sir." I commented, trying not to get sick by using that honorific on _him_.

He stood up, and I glanced at Kyle in desperation. He grimaced at me in return.

This is my death sentence. I swiveled around, picked up the latte, and was about to march after Cilan, when Kyle asked, "Are you bringing that latte to do what I think- no, no I know, what you're doing to do?" I winked at him.

I hurried after Cilan, whose leg-span was incredible, not that I spent time looking at things such as my teacher's legs, to his office.

The office was the epitome of him, by the way; a good-for-nothing, pompous fool who duped everyone with his artificial kindness just to lure them into his wicked cave. I perched myself on the armchair, and crossed my legs, placing my latte on the table next to me.

He sat down on his long leather armchair behind his desk, seeming more like the godfather than a teacher. I bet he fancies himself as one.

I noticed he had my file out on his desk. What, was he stalking me now?

"Burgundy," he started, with a small shake of his head. Dropping all formalities at once? What a connard. "Firstly, though I am delighted you've come this far, it's been such a pleasure to have experienced your journey with you…"

Is he referring to the time I cried against his chest in the Gym? _I thought we'd never mention that ever again!_

"I… I feel that despite you being an A-Class, you have not yet grown into the role. That is, succinctly, you haven't matured to become one." Excuse me?!

"This breaks my heart, and your regular lack of punctuality along with it.

Burgundy, you have, as you always have had, a secret ingredient of your own. I knew I wasn't wrong to give up on you, but… I feel that something is restraining your true performance. I feel that…"

I stood up. I had enough. Acting under the hallucination that we were friends? Having the absolute cheek to tell me this, teacher or not? Sickening!

"Burgundy?" he croaked wearily. I shook my head, and turned, inching towards the doorknob. "No, no, no," I spat out furiously picking up my latte, "I am not taking this, no, no, no…"

In retrospect, it may not have been the most mature move, but could I help myself? However, as my hand wrapped around the knob, a palm belonging to him slammed against the door's paneling. I turned my head a fraction, the shivers tickling my entire body. Cilan's evil spirit was treated like a condiment; use it sparingly for maximum effect. "Burgundy, you leave me to this. You will be taking remedial lessons with me, starting at 1.30 p.m. sharp tomorrow in my office, and if you don't arrive sans haste, ah… I will be disappointed, and my disappointment is… an instant fail. "

In spite of my fear, I gritted my teeth. How dare he bully me like this! My arm reacted immediately, and I flung the remainder of my latte into his face. "Like hell it is!" I quickly exited the room, and spirited down the corridor as fast as I could.

An extraordinarily stupid idea, indeed.

* * *

Okay, more than a few notes, my apologies:

*Despite the severely convenient remedial class trick, I don't intend for this fanfiction to be overly romantic; you probably won't see a kissing scene. So, if you're hoping for that, er, sorry? It is still unknown if I will explore other shippings, I will explore other relationships though.

*The original calls the institution "the Sommelier association" but I hadn't any idea what the dub refers to it as and bulbapedia was surprisingly fruitless to an answer, so? If I'm incorrect, and there is a name, let me know.

* Kyle is, yes, the same Kyle from the Wallace Cup. Chapter 2 will explore their friendship more.

* Bouchet is another name used for the Cabernet Sauvignon grapes. Also, alliteration!

* About the "I cried against his chest", there were a lot of different staements for that one. The first was the rather frisky "we got to third base"… but I thought, she'd like him a lot more if they did, heh heh…

*Oh, a note on all the French used: Belle- Beautiful, Parfait- Perfect, très laid- very ugly (please don't tell me about French grammar, omfg), Lojn des yeux, loin du cœur- out of sight out of mind, affreux- awful, Connard- either fool or bastard (probably bastard in this context, oops).

* Their use of language changes depending on the mood. That's why it is… erratic.

* This won't be battle-orientated. I love battles, but I can't write them to save my life- that's why I left Odd Tastes where I did…


	2. Fight or Flight

tw: swearing. At this rate, it's safe to assume that every chapter will have swearing.

* * *

As soon as I had reached a safe harbour (i.e the unanimous smokers' area behind PCA's cafeteria), I panted, almost dizzy from the adrenaline and thrill of acting so recklessly against my enemy. A rather uninvited pang of guilt tried to settle in my stomach, so to partially distract myself from that, I fumbled with the Xtransceiver on my wrist, and selected Kyle's contact to call. It only rang twice before he picked up. "Hey," he tried to sound casual, but his laughter betrayed him completely, "the caffeine connoisseur is _not _happy with you!"

"Let him, the absolute putain!" I replied with élan. "Anyways, do you have time to meet me at the usual destination?" I asked, twisting my wrist so he would spot the figures clouded by cigarette smoke. He raised his eyebrows and grinned at me slyly.

"That may be for the best. Cilan has probably pinned me down as your accomplice at this stage, so I think giving him the slip is in order. I'll see you there in five minutes!" he trilled and hung up. I tapped my Xtransceiver screen once, and allowed my eyes to wander over to the group of connoisseurs clutching cigarette packs in their hands. Smoking was rather common at PCA, as some of the students needed a distraction from food so they could fit into their petticoats appropriately. Others sought it out due to the stress of exams and lectures. I had no friends in this group of regulars, however their silence and lack of mocking body language was a sign of acceptance. Despite this, I chose not to sit down with them.

Eventually, Kyle galloping towards me came into view over the horizon. My face muscles relaxed immediately, and I grinned, giving him a wave with a waggle of my fingers. "You're out of breath," I hollered at him as soon as he stopped a metre in front of me, "Don't even try to act cool and hold it in!"

"I… hah… have no idea… hah… what you're talking about." he replied, his hands on his knees. He slowly regained composure, and ran his slender fingers through his fringe. This was an hourly ritual of his; his fingers appeared to have an attraction towards his hair, as they often could be seen inching towards it, ready to rake their beloved brunette garden.

I glanced at the smokers surreptitiously; it is beneath me to admit this, but they were intimidating. Wonder what it's like to be one of them…" I thought aloud.

"Don't think you will make the cut anytime soon, now." Kyle snorted softly, "Remember when you put the cigarette in the wrong way?"

I flushed as I recalled my novice mistakes. "Th- th- that's Georgia's fault!" I retorted hotly. It was true, though, Georgia, my old friend and a rather berserk Dragon Buster, had told me that it was the Kalosian way to smoke. "Anyways, smoking is…" I lowered my voice so the crowd wouldn't overhear and exile me. "… a filthy habit. I was young and naïve!" I reiterated the last line in my head. _Young and naïve_…

* * *

We were straying behind that wall, I telling Kyle about my new training regime for Dewott, when we overheard a few teaching assistants whining about matters irrelevant to us both, since we are fabulous beings of divinity. Until…

"Did you hear about Miss. Bouchet?"

My ears perked up, however the next sentence was not, "Oh yes, she is still as outstanding as ever" as I had predicted.

"Yes, I did." their colleague responded stiffly. "When is she not up to something? That girl… pouring an espresso over her professor's head!" An espresso? It was a fucking latte! Kyle rolled his eyes, and I knew he had thought the same thing.

"Really!" the other exclaimed and then spoke in a hushed voice, "He is beyond infuriated. Usually, he exudes a gentle wind, but today, it is some violent hurricane!" They shuddered.

The guilty feeling serenaded this loudly, but a wave of pleasure washed it aside. Finally, after all these frustrating years, I have managed to successfully piss that putain off! This feeling was too wonderful to hold! Suddenly though, Kyle's hand wrapped around my wrist, and a serious look crossed his eyes. My ecstasy faded immediately when I realised the reason. I… I've never seen Cilan furious before, but I have heard some rumours… my insides flipped upside down. Oh no…

I turned to Kyle, my bottom lip trembling. He returned an uneasy look. I shut my eyes; this was not befitting of me, I should be used to trouble! "I'll go… back to my apartment." I told him, my voice croaking. He nodded, but then…

"Where's your satchel?" I froze. In my mind's eye, I saw it. In that damn lecture room.

Kyle shook his head. "I can't believe you, sometimes…" He grinned in spite of himself.

"I think it'd be unwise of me to venture to hell twice in one day." I answered, and he agreed. "I'll go." he said, and took off.

I gulped, acknowledging it was my turn to leave, and dawdling was not the best option. I sprinted across the pathway, hearing one of the assistants exclaim, "Wait… isn't that Miss Bouchet herself?"

I twisted the decorated key into number 78 at the Swanna Lake apartment complex. I kicked off my flats, and sighed, falling against the back of the door. Running was never my forte, and yet that's what I have been doing all day. Thanks to that… that _connard_! I heard laughter echoing from the kitchen, and raised my eyebrows. Stephan must have friends of his over. Any minute now, they'll be pulling up their sleeves and comparing their biceps. I wandered over, and opened the door. There was Stephan, leaning against the granite cover of the island, chatting animatedly to Cameron, a boy who was all right, but could be infuriatingly slow at times. They both wheeled around in my direction, and greeted me. "Burgundy, you look worn out." Stephan told me, chuckling. Stephan was another friend of mine, which I first met through a tournament several years ago. He had always been slightly beefy, though when he was younger one would consider it "chubby", but now he was both beefy and muscular. His crimson hair was slicked back into a ponytail (that was very a la Alder, the former Champion) and he was still wearing his referee uniform. "Long day." I replied, painting a fake smile on my face. I knew it would fool Cameron, but not Stephan. His lips formed into a thin line, but fortunately, he knew not to interrogate.

"Hey, Burgundy!" Cameron saluted merrily, "Today I was trying to catch a super-rare shiny Whismur and almost fell off a cliff!" That was typical Cameron jargon.

"You really need to be more careful." Stephan chastised him, smiling. I headed over and wrenched the mini fridge door open. Yes, we had no proper fridge. Just a mini fridge. I don't actually know why this apartment never came equipped with one, but I never asked. Pulling out a soda, I shut it, and moved over to the island. "So, how was refereeing?" I asked. Stephan worked part time at Don George's Battle Club.

"Awesome." he responded with vigour, "Got to see some really great matches and a competitor thanked me! That never happens!"

"Well done." I replied honestly. I took a sip of the soda, and felt instantly refreshed. It was peaceful here with these two. Stephan was telling Cameron about safety first when catching a Pokemon, while Cameron shook it off, laughing childishly.

I left to my bedroom when my Xtransceiver began to chime, and I pulled my sleeve up, revealing the watch. The caller's ID was Kyle, so I answered it.

"Hey there." I said nonchalantly, but Kyle looked anything but calm. He was flicking at his fringe, a sign of his stress.

"Burgundy… your satchel wasn't there." My eyes widened. "But I left it there! I know I did!" I replied anxiously.

Then it struck me. Kyle nodded, confirming my fears. The doorbell also decided to help me, by conveniently ringing. "Shit!" I put my hand to my mouth, my face blanching. I could hear Stephan's voice saying, "Oh, hi Cilan. Didn't expect you here!" I was about to break down and sob into the pillow, when I realised something, a gleeful smile stretching across my face.

"I'll see you later, Kyle." I said, slapping my hand against the screen to end the call. That impertinent fool believes he is the victor of this battle, but does he know exactly who is dealing with?

I pulled up the window's frame, and proceeded to jump out of the building, three stories up. Throwing my pokeball into the air, I cried, "Staraptor! Use Fly!" The sound crashed against my ears as I fell, until I slammed against Staraptor, who squawked. "Sorry, Staraptor!" I apologised, stroking its back. We sped off, across the lake, the water almost splitting as we glided across. We were above a forest, when suddenly we came to a halt. "Staraptor, what's the matter?" I asked gently, and it swivelled its head around, giving me a disgruntled look. Oh. I forgot to say where to fly. "Oh, uh… uh… to the amusement park!"

We began to fly again, and I held on, admiring the scenery that was laid down before my eyes. I spotted the bright lights, and felt myself scrunching up in excitement. I adored amusement parks, especially Nimbasa's. The thrilling rides, the psychedelic colours, and the cotton candy… what was not appealing about the whole affair? When I was younger, I would visit the fairgrounds every weekend in the summer with my parents. "Staraptor, you can land over there." I commanded, pointing to a spot in the carpark. It obliged, and I hopped off, stroking Staraptor's plumage, before sending it back to the PokeBall. "Thanks, Staraptor." I skipped over to the fairground, with only a few pokedollars in my pocket. I could only hope that it was enough, at least for the Rock Smash Rollercoaster, a personal favourite of mine.

Weaving through tourists with all sorts of obnoxious paraphernalia in their hands, little, well brats who bumped into you and didn't even think of it, and couples, I eventually found the attraction I was searching for.

The Rock Smash Rollercoaster loomed before me, its carriage a rotating rock that was stuck to the rails (since people often questioned its safety… losers like Cilan, probably), which were painted a dark brown, to act as rough terrain. It was an excellent tribute to the move Rock Smash. I sighed. If only I had someone with me, since Pokemon weren't allowed on the ride for some ridiculous reason. I strolled up to the box, and propped my elbow on the counter. "Hello," I breathed, "For one ride, s'il vous plait." The woman behind the desk, who was scratching the bridge of her nose idly, muttered in a decibel she believed to be rather low, "Freaking connoisseurs." and then glanced at me and said, "100 pokedollars, please."

I twitched. It used to be only 75 two years ago… but I handed over the money all the same. I hopped into the second carriage, which had four seats, two at the front, and two at the back. Two men in their thirties hopped into the back row. The announcement that the ride was about to begin and to tuck in your arms and legs rang off, as a young man pushed himself into the seat beside mine. At first I thought nothing of it, until I caught a glimpse of red hair. Stephan? Was I that obvious? However, when I turned to face him, I realised that it wasn't him.

"Yo, Burgundy." Chili said effervescently, giving me the victory sign.

* * *

Apologies again, I know what it feels like to read such a short chapter. Nowadays, 6,000 words per chapter is my requirement when I read fanfiction chapters, but I never live up to writing them, perhaps because I am very impatient.

I'd say most people who teach in PCA (does anyone else think of Zoey 101, or is it just me) are Professors, so Cilan is Professor… whatever I pick for a surname. Kyle and Burgundy call him Cilan because neither of them give two shits about formalities when it comes to him. Not to his face during class though.

What I mean about the smoking part is, well, have you ever heard of cigarettes being called "dancing sticks"? As in, dancers would smoke them to distract themselves from actually eating. There was a Simpson's episode on it, a much older one now…


	3. Off the Rails

I blinked for a moment, breathless by how absurd this was. My scepticism was at its peak; I flee one triplet, and another appears out of bloody nowhere! However, before I interrogate him, the carriage door shut and our safety bars clasped us firmly to the seats. He readjusted his sunglasses; typical Chili. I wondered if he was wearing them as a disguise from his fangirls (though the hair is still a dead giveaway, but before I could open my mouth, the wheels began to grind against the rails, guiding us forward. The only words I could manage after that were either expletives or just incoherent. A gulf of Butterfree during mating season flew across in my stomach as we whirled around. Still, I was able to mull this over…

Chili was admittedly my favourite out of the three triplets of Striaton Gym. He was preferable to Cress, and a league ahead of that putain Connoisseur (who isn't, though?) that happens to take my class. We shared a sense of humour that consisted of filthy jokes and disrespecting decorum in general.

After the heaven's gates had opened up to acknowledge me as the best debutante C-Class they had seen in years with dazzling potential, I had returned to Striaton Gym in a storm to serve justice. Now that I consider it, I was being a little ridiculous… but the weight of that damn Trio Badge felt very satisfying at the time. Not satisfying enough though; I had defeated Chili, Cilan's triplet brother, instead of enemy number one. It wasn't until much later, perhaps just after I had lost in my first ever tournament, the Club Battles. What pains me is to confess it was against what I considered a flat drink, Ash Ketchum. However, back then, I was an untrained fool, but still with the incredible potential that I have honed today. Even about Ash Ketchum… I eventually had to warm up to him, since Stephan constantly calls him from wherever that boy is travelling. His unorthodox nature while unsettling in the mouth, gives a pleasant aftertaste. Anyways, when I had reached Striaton Gym, I was stunned at how attractive it could be when an infuriating walking dictionary happens to be absent. I eased up and Chili forgave me for my brash nature, hopefully in the comprehension that his older brother is an overbearing twat. Ever since, we have kept in contact. It wanes at times, but not to the point that I wouldn't sit beside him in a carriage.

The beautiful ride had ended, and I stumbled out, dazed and euphoric. As soon as I had regain composure, I glanced at Chili. He was unusually pale.

"Hey," I nudged him, "You alright?"

"Um, yeah I'm okay." he responded, picking at his bowtie. "Why do you ask?"

I couldn't tell if he was lying or not, as he was wearing sunglasses at time. Not just any kind but the latest addition to the Winstrate brand, which probably cost a small skyscraper. Typical Striaton Gym wealth, I suppose.

"Well, for a start, you're rather pale," I commented and then glanced at him coyly, "I wouldn't have struck your taste down as being weaker than water!"

Chili acted a little strangely for a second; he raised his eyebrow. However then, the Chili I knew returned in full strength as he nudged me in the ribs. "You connoisseurs! What would you know 'bout my taste, eh?"

I giggled. "Possibly that it is total bravado!" I retorted. "Still, why are you here?"

"Well, I guess I wasn't in the mood for battlin', and Cress demanded that I come here, y'know. I love rollercoasters."

With a smile, I agreed. "I'm very much the same," I replied, glancing at the Ferris Wheel. I never particularly enjoyed hopping on it, because it was very gentle and couple-ridden, but the view of the scenery it provided was ineffable.

However, I found it slightly awkward to invite Chili to that, so I decided that another run on the rollercoaster wouldn't hurt; though now he was still pale. Too pale, for his skin tone…

"Hey, would you like another go on the Rock Smash Rollercoaster?" I asked him.

"Spare me!" he groaned, which took me by surprise. "I mean… ugh, what is the use, it would be unfit of me to fluster." He grinned devilishly, and I felt the pit of my stomach crumble. His fingers traced his crimson hair, and with a tug, he whipped off what was actually in fact a wig, from his head.

"Burgundy, it's a pleasure to see you." Cilan spoke nonchalantly, pushing his sunglasses onto his forehead, with the wig clutched in his head. Merde!

I tensed apprehensively. "Cilan! You're… a complete freak!" I spat out, unable to help myself. "Who the fuck follows a girl and then masquerades as their own brother?"

Several passerbys turned to glance at my uproar, but none of them had the competence to help. I was in distress, and all they can do is stare in some blasé fashion?

He chuckled wearily. "I understand, that was slightly excessive and a part of my rage… at a young lady deciding to unflatteringly throw a hot latte over my head. Very rude of her, you know…" His smile looked like the cracks in ice, and I felt the chill instantly. "However, in my defence, I was coming to check if you were alright. Not very often do I have to confront my students to only have them fleeing disgracefully on a Staraptor." Disgracefully? Disgracefully?! That… that connard! However, I knew not to explode with fury, because whatever volcano I produced, it would dwarf in comparison to Cilan's.

"Well… uh… I…" I was at a loss for words. I couldn't say what I truly wished to tell that obnoxious brat, because of how intimidated I was, and due to that, I cannot recall having much to really exchange with him other than insults and possibly challenges. Still, I am an A-Class Connoisseuse. Silence is unfit for my profession!

"I see, well congratulations on reaching me, I suppose." I responded, in an attempt to be patronising but my tone wavered. I flicked my hair impressively, deciding that I could maintain my composure if I kept our eye contact to a complete minimum. "The excruciation you must have struggled under is unimaginable- Staraptor and I could almost defy the sky itself with our bond."

"Is that so? I felt the chase was caressed with a very light pace." See, ordinary fools would be bewildered as to my claims that this young man standing before is clearly the sign of disaster spelt out in our folklore, but that smile combined with his sentence… vicious.

"Oh, really?" I bounced back immediately. I was not giving into Cilan, even if it meant toning myself down a notch first. "I'm relieved- I find putting someone in their place is so much better when they are so clouded by their own ego."

"I would have to say that you have absolutely no authority to be fabricating statements about 'putting someone in their place', Burgundy." At the sound of my name, I made a massive error of glancing up at him. The glare in his eyes was frightening, but magnificent… it almost felt as if the entire parkland was being distorted under their sheer pressure. In spite of myself, I gulped.

"Well, then. I would like to get down to business… you know why I'm here, correct?" he asked, hands on hips.

To make an extraordinarily atrocious day even worse, I thought to myself. However, my tact held that back. "I'm going to take a guess and presume it is about me and my latte?"

"Almost. It is regarding your remedial classes." I could've choked as soon as that affreux word fell out his word. Remedial…

"Pardon, but I have to just remind you of one little aspect…" I spoke. "The fact that I am, well, an A-Class?" My tone hardened on the title, and my fists clenched.

"That's true, Burgundy. However, you're still as immature as you have been always. You may have survived coming this far with that mentality, but this is the examination for S-Class! If you keep letting your emotions blind you as you do, you'll never succeed with your tastings. I understand why you may not like me-" He paused for a moment and then rephrased, "I have at least endeavoured to understand why, but even so, can't you admit that it is a little exaggerated?"

Deep down, I had always known that he was better than me. I could hear myself even confess that to him… but that is irrelevant; it only drives my revenge further! Even if it causes my motives to shatter when it comes sense…

Oh, what was I doing! My mind snapped at me, and left my daze in an instant.

"That is certainly a perspective on the matter." I answered, in some attempt to be neutral, but that was not my forte. "I disagree."

His eyes were still unnaturally harsh to look at, but I knew for the sake of my pride, no matter how terrified I was, I had to stand up to this beast. Albeit with numerous shivers trickling down my body.

"I knew I could read your taste effortlessly. Then, allow me to suggest a Pokemon battle?" he asked, scooting us both over past a ring-toss stall. I paused for a moment, my eyes absent-mindedly wandering over to the Swanna headphones that were on offer as a prize. Battle Cilan? On one hand, it wasn't as if I was a novice to battling… the thrill of it captivated me on several occasions and the idea of thrashing Striaton Gym's ex Gym Leader as well as my nemesis was an enchanting idea. On the other though, Cilan was trickier than he let known, and I was not the fool that I was years ago…

Still, to deny a battle would be to deny the skills and qualities of my Pokemon. Unacceptable! However, I had a plan to secure myself against the risk. "Fine, Cilan. We'll decide things on this. If you lose, I will have free reign to set all your finest cutlery ablaze and you will not be able to stand in my way." He focused his stare on me, and I faltered immediately. "Okay, your _second_ finest."

"I agree to those conditions, if you accept that if I happen to win, you must attend my special classes. Though, was that ever up to debate…" He chuckled grimly, and I shuddered in spite of myself.

"Pardon, however I fail to see how that is fair." I spoke up suddenly, not audacious to look at him square in the eye.

"Oh, my bad," he replied, still with a confident smile, "I'll elaborate. You would fail anyways, if you did not attend, but now, if you lose, you have no other choice than to attend." Alors la, pas d'accord!

I gritted my teeth; I knew this situation was dire and unjust- so, in other words, in true Cilan fashion. However, I had already accepted.

I forced him to bring us to more silent ground than the amusement park, which was an empty lot behind it. I knew all about the pride and extravagance of Connoisseurs, but I was not going to lower my standards and battle on pavements where there were people pushing and shoving into you every second as well as not quite the best smells. Amusement parks were thrilling, but that doesn't make me entirely oblivious to the negatives.

I realised as soon as we standing across from another, that we had no referee. Cilan appeared to have as well for he said, "Hmm, the absence of a referee gives this match an unbalanced taste, does it not?"

"Uh, quite." I replied.

Thus, we ventured back into the fairgrounds to badger someone to attend our match as referee, when finally a bored ride operator decided to agree. "You do know the rules, yes?" Cilan asked him apprehensively. He grunted, which I figured to be as a "yes".

"Right, lemme figure this out…" he muttered, and then projected his voice, "The match between Cilan, previous Gym Leader of Striaton City, and the challenged, Burgundy. This will be a…"

"One versus one." Cilan answered, with a devilish grin. I had no issues with that particularly; Cilan's presence was ban allergy, and I could already feel the hives coming on. The referee reiterated Cilan's words, and whistled through his mouth to signal the start of the match.

"Well then, Stunfisk, let's go!" Cilan spun and threw his pokeball with what a deluded creature may call "grace". Also, spinning? He acts like such a prima donna. The referee coughed grumpily, and I was jolted out of my assessment.

"Oh! In that case, my premium brand, Dewott, go!" Dewott materialised in front of me, across from Cilan's bizarre choice of Pokemon. Their compatibility has always been a question, but I know even that is to test me in my competence.

"Burgundy… you have the pleasure of making the first move, from anywhere you like." Anywhere I like? As if I didn't know that, and it's especially insulting when it echoes from a putain's mouth… my fists clenched. No matter what, I have just the right sense of revenge to cope with this match!

* * *

Okay, you're probably annoyed that the Chili thing was a bluff, haha, but he will make an appearance at least once.

French: Putain- Literally whore, is used a lot as an insult, Alors la, (je ne suis) pas d'accord- No way.


	4. A Bitter Pill to Swallow

The curler in my hands hissed at me, but the feeling was mutual. "Oh, shut up." I snapped, and then thrust it back into the tornado of hair that was awaiting it. My ambition in my bedroom that morning was to dress to impress. Not quite "impress", but make those snobs at Striaton Gym turn their heads, and to have the king of all snobs, fall off his throne and onto his knees. I was interrupted from this rather charming fantasy when the heat from my curler almost burnt my cheek.

Even though my curler was yet to be won over, my outfit made me proud. A navy cashmere jumper, a present from my affluent cousin, combined with a chiffon scarf tied loosely around the nape of my neck, stood out to be the prize winners. The silver medal would have been handed to my crisp cream chinos. I raked the curler through the strands of hair, and twisted my wrist to form a signature curl.

"Burgundy, didn't I say you had two more minutes a good ten minutes ago?"

A deep voice interrupted me, and I spun around in my swivel chair. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. I sighed; I could understand that, but sometimes, Stephan is so blind. Could he not appreciate the difficulty I was enduring?

"Oui, that is all very well Stephan, but maybe you don't grasp my divine ordeal here. This is fate- destiny!"

"You're talking about this lesson as if it were," Stephan paused and then smiled a little, "a date. Which is kind of cute, I suppose, it's nice to see you excited-"

Whatever else came out of his mouth, I had no time to hear. Anything else was rendered invalid by that disgusting concept he threw into my head. Switching off my curler, and flinging it onto the floor, I got up and stormed out of the room.

As I quickly slipped into my flats, and Stephan rushed after me hastily, I wondered… do I know anyone who could exorcise my friend?

* * *

Cameron was tapping his foot against the hard concrete, his Lucario gazing around the parking lot. I shivered in the morning air, my breath escaping me into the mist. Even it didn't want to deal with that connard, Cilan. Stephan unlocked his rather mediocre car, though he could boast of both a driver's license and an actual car, whereas I was still indulging myself in a pompous dream.

I sat in the passenger's seat, and Lucario along with his trainer squashed themselves into the back seats. I was rather fortunate, even if it meant I had to wake up an hour earlier than I had to; Stephan was refereeing a match in Nacrene City's Battle Club, and Cameron wanted to explore the mysteries of Mega Evolution after obtaining a Lucarionite. As I watched the two of them, trainer and Pokemon, laugh together, tucked in by their seatbelts, like two small children, I couldn't help but grin. The essence of innocence combined with a layer of companionship decorated their relationship and as an A Class Connaisseuse, I couldn't help feel that the stone that glistened in Cameron's hands was meant for them.

"Did you two know that the first mega evolution, according to Legend, was a Lucario?" I turned around in my seat, as the car took off.

Cameron's eyes widened. "Woah, are you serious?" he asked rhetorically, and then high-fived Lucario. "Well, good! That trainer and Lucario paved the way for our friendship to shine!"

Stephan chuckled. "You sure know a lot about Mega Evolution, Burgundy. You even have that catalogue of all the reported stones."

"Bien sur." I replied, self-assured. "It's going to be the topic for my thesis, after all."

"Oh, yeah! You have to write a thesis when you're a S-Class, right? It's a great idea, I mean, Mega Evolution is all about the bond between a trainer and their Pokemon."

I gazed out the window, as the scenery rolled by us. I knew that the A-Class examinations were no easy feat, however, the idea of my thesis exhilarated me so much, especially that it relates to my identity, as a half Kalosian.

However, if I thought examinations were my only obstacle, I was apparently dead wrong according to the garçon who knew everything about the field.

"Well, he is a qualified professor. He mightn't be omniscient," Stephan said as I complained, "but he's much closer than you would be, so it won't hurt learning off him, especially if you want to succeed."

"Not just succeed." I corrected him. "Surpass!"

"So you admit he's ahead of you, then?"

I bit my lip. I knew that, I knew he was ahead of me, as painful as the truth was, it was too glaringly obvious for me cast a blind eye. I had known since he was an A-Class himself, and it seems the further I chase him, the further he slips away.

"Yes." I replied. I could trust Stephan, and now he was the first person that I had admitted this to other than myself.

Stephan briefly tore his eyes away from the road to smile at me supportively. "Well, that's a start, anyways." Stephan told me. "Though you looked so pained, Burgundy. Cheer up; knowing someone is better is never defeat, not to me anyways. Isn't being the best a success and a defeat in itself?" A snore erupted from the back, and I cocked my head. Cameron's head was lolling against Lucario's shoulder, as both were asleep, Cameron's mouth hanging open. Geez that took no time at all.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Haha, well… you know, your dream is practically over, then. When someone's better, it motivates you to improve. You can't be better than the best, can you? So your growth becomes kind of… stagnant. Of course, it's a success- you are the best, after all! However, it must be annoying, you can never be higher than at the summit, if such a place exists in competition. Someone better will always come."

"I never saw it that way." I answered slowly, mulling it over. Stephan changed gears, and stared ahead of him. "You may want to improve, but that doesn't make it easy to exactly motivate yourself."

"I never said it would be." Stephan answered. "However, no competition would exist if it were easy, and the profit wouldn't be as pleasurable if it were easy. You chose Cilan because he defeated you, therefore, even from the start, you knew he'd be an ordeal."

"No, if I remember rightly, it was because he humiliated me!" I could still see it now; a svelte figure, blurred through my tears, with his hand on hip, trying to string ostentatious words together, as I sat dumbly on the floor of the field, cradling my fainted Oshawott.

"So you still hate him, then. And maybe that's okay." Stephan flicked down the indicator. "Still, I don't know if you're being fully honest."

"What? I am. I'm telling you what I'm tell myself."

"Exactly."

I reclined in the passenger seat. Sometimes, Stephan seriously confused me.

* * *

Thirty minutes before the dissent to hell, and I was looking up at the prestigious Striaton Gym. In fairness, the exterior did silence you with its power and yet eloquence, as expected from Cilan. However, I was an A-Class now; a couple of marble pillars did not intimidate me in the slightest. You may wonder what does pillars have to do with my rank, but I don't see how frolicking around trains seems to qualify either.

I sighed, and pushed open the door. I didn't really have that much money to venture into Striaton City, anyways. The cost of living was high enough in this city. As usual, almost every table had an occupant, quite a few of them happened to be members of the Striaton's Gym leaders fan club. I groaned inwardly at the disturbing prospect of them watching over the lesson. If that happens, Cilan is getting kicked and I do not care how he feels about that. I shuffled to the side a little awkwardly, waiting for a table. I actually didn't want to see him until the lesson, and even that seemed like a torturous idea to me.

I saw a bush of crimson hair and grinned. The real Chili this time approached me. "Yo, Burgundy. I heard you were coming over. The usual table by the window?"

I flushed. He still remembers my preferred table from the days when Cilan was travelling and therefore absent from this place. The café is quite pleasant, after all.

"Merci beaucoup." I told him, already walking over the table. He came over to me, and lingered beside the seat across from the one I had occupied.

"I can't stay for long, Cress'll butcher me." He told me with a chuckle. "To make it seem like I'm doing my job, you want a drink?"

"I'll have a latte, and maybe a shortcake too, for now, s'il vous plait." I answered. Chili's colloquial, slightly cavalier way of speaking was oddly charming. He saluted and rushed off to the counter. The heels of my feet slipped out of the flats as I stretched in my chair. The air felt uncomfortably tight, and I realised… I was nervous. I frowned; were Stephan's words getting to me? I shook my head. No, that couldn't be it.

Suddenly, a large cup and a plate adjacent to it obstructed my view, and I was jolted out of my thoughts.

"Merci." I took a sip from the latte. "Ah, damn, you missed it! The design!" I stared at the contents. True, the white stripes represented nothing more than cirrus clouds.

"Didn't know you had an artistic inclination." I answered cheekily, winking. Chili huffed, and a few members of the uninvited audience frantically scrambled for their cameras.

"Please!" He cusped his chin, and tried to pull off an attractive grin. "It was of a Darmanitan, how is yours, by the way?" I took a bite of the shortcake. It was delicious, and the essence was just right. Not half bad!

"Oh, alright. A bit quick tempered, though. That aside, though, did you know what your absolutely ridiculous brother got up to?"

Chili snorted, as he sat down. "I'm gonna guess it was Cilan, yeah?"

I growled. "When isn't it that bowtie wearing idiot…"

"Hey!" Chili exclaimed, pulling at the ends of his own bowtie. "Bowties are awesome. Oh, yeah, I heard all about me. He impersonated me, then again, who wouldn't?" He flicked his hair arrogantly.

"I find it a bit disconcerting that you're not even a little perturbed by that."

He let out a laugh, his head reclining. "It's a bit of a tradition over here. See, during the week, for our fans, we've these, like, themed shows, particular to which triplet. But what if one of us is sick or away? We can't disappoint our customers. So we disguise ourselves as the other; our body shapes are pretty much identical, anyways. Cilan must seriously worry about you if he would pull off that kind of thing, though then again… Cilan likes dressing up a lot."

I snorted. Cilan just wanted to indulge in a pastime and torment me. Go figure.

In the distance, I could hear someone call for Chili. Chili jerked his head around, and both of us looked at Cress, his pale hands firmly on his hips, apron unbelievably pristine. He was glaring.

"Oops, better run. Catch you later, Burgundy!" Chili said to me, scrapping back the chair hastily.

I waved goodbye and informed him I'd see him after my lesson. I would need something pleasant. I sipped my latte, and wondered were there any matches scheduled for today. Cilan will have his hands full with me, anyways, not that he'll be touching me- I'll burn off his fingers if he even dares. Still, I loved Pokemon battles. They were always so thrilling to watch, but instead I have to deal with this lesson.

The chair opposite to me scrapped against the oak floor, and before I looked up, I coyly murmured, "A bit keen, aren't we, Chili?"

"Yes, I've been perpetually keen to teach you, Burgundy." A softer, well-spoken voice answered me, and I almost choked on my own tongue in surprise.

I willed myself to look up and my eyes widened. His hand on the arm of the chair, his other on his hip… the pose was too familiar to me.

"I think it's time we begin, Burgundy." Cilan told me. "I hope you enjoyed my shortcake, by the way."

* * *

Sorry, I know I keep delaying things- I didn't intend to, the conversation between Stephan and Burgundy spanned out for longer than intended.

Um, also, apologies for the delay.


End file.
